


Wedding/Engagement Prompt Ficlets

by missmagoo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlets, M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:30:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmagoo/pseuds/missmagoo
Summary: A series of tiny ficlets based on a list of wedding/engagement themed promptsOriginally written/posted to tumblr way back in 2015 in response to the Obergefell v. Hodges Supreme Court verdict, so all ficlets are super light, fluffy, and happy





	1. “i jokingly told you that the only way i’d marry you was if you did this weird outlandish thing, and you actually did it, and i’m kind of charmed.”

“So are you guys next?” Kira asks, grinning brightly at Derek and Stiles while Scott stares at her adoringly.

Stiles snorts, because he and Derek may be sleeping together, sure. But it’s not like they’re dating. “Yeah, that’s about as likely as me getting abducted by space aliens.”

He pretends not to see the way Derek’s smile dims, ever so slightly.

***

Not even a month later, Stiles is coughing his way out of some sort of cryogenic hyperchamber where the aliens kept him conscious while they examined him, collapsing into Derek’s arms as Scott, in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, growls that the aliens better not venture so far as this galaxy ever again.

“You totally just saved me from space aliens.” Stiles says, “I’m pretty sure that means we have to get married now.”

“Stiles, you’ve just been through a lot. You don’t have to make any promises right now.” Derek says, gently thumping Stiles’ back to help him cough up the rest of the goo the aliens had kept him in suspended animation with.

“Nope.” Stiles says, “It’s law. You, me, wedded bliss. If you wanted out, you should have just let them take me back to Blagulon Kappa.”

“I would kiss you right now.” Derek says seriously, “But you’re kind of covered in alien goo.”

“We’re getting married.” Stiles argues, “That makes my alien goo your alien goo.” And he pulls Derek in for a kiss.


	2. “this is probably a bad time, but marry me?”

There have been worse times to ask. In the middle of life-or-death fights with supernatural creatures of all description, while Stiles is in the middle of outlining some brilliant plan to the pack (which will undoubtedly go wrong at the first available opportunity, but in Derek’s mind that takes nothing away from his boyfriend’s brilliance), even spur of the moment in the middle of having sex. All terrible times to ask, but at least those moments, as terrible as they are, could be viewed as romantic under the right circumstances.

Instead it happens on a totally mundane Tuesday, when Stiles, just home from grad school and supposedly staying with Derek in the new house in a nice neighborhood “just until he finds a job and an apartment” (even though they both know Derek’s gonna ask him to move in permanently before the apartment hunt ever gets underway), comes down from the bedroom, kisses Derek a sleepy hello, then spots the full trash bin by the kitchen door that Derek swore he was going to take out to the curb last night.

While Stiles is berating him for missing the trash pickup that happened just hours before, complaining about the fact that last week’s stinky trash is now going to be around until NEXT Tuesday, and generally being grumpy and uncaffeinated, Derek can’t help but bask in how comfortable, how normal, it is to have Stiles standing in his kitchen, complaining about trash pickup, impatiently glaring at the keurig for not making his coffee fast enough. It feels like home, like family, and Derek wants it to last forever.

“Marry me.” He says, barely thinking the words before they’re out of his mouth.

“I – what?” Stiles says dumbly, interrupted from his trash rant and tearing his eyes away from the slow drizzle of coffee into his favorite mug as he stares at Derek with wide eyes.

“I love you.” Derek says, “I want you to stay with me forever, even when you’re yelling at me for not taking out the trash. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Stiles says, still looking shell-shocked, “Of course, Derek. I – yes, I want to marry you.”

And then they’re kissing in the middle of their kitchen, and Stiles is grinning against Derek’s mouth, and Derek’s filled with so much happiness it feels like he could burst.

Then Stiles pulls away ever so slightly and says, “Just so we’re clear, you can’t just propose marriage every time you want to get out of chores. This is a one-time deal.”

“Got it.” Derek says, and kisses him again.


	3. “we’ve been dating forever, and you just caught the bouquet at our friend’s wedding”

“When should we tell everyone?” Stiles asks, “I kinda want to shout it from the rooftops, but…”

“It’s Allison and Lydia’s day.” Derek says, “We shouldn’t take attention away from them. We’ll wait to tell people until tomorrow.” Just then, something comes whizzing towards Stiles’ head, and Derek reaches out and grabs it before it can hit his fiance.

It’s a gorgeous bouquet, one of the ones Lydia and Allison were holding during the ceremony. He looks up and sees the entire wedding party staring at him.

“Look!” Kira calls, “Derek caught the bouquet! He’s the next one to get married!”

“Or we could just tell them right now.” He whispers to Stiles, who nods minutely, and grins as Derek gets down on one knee in front of him.

“Stiles Stilinski, will you marry me?” Derek asks, holding out the bouquet in homage.

“Absolutely.” Stiles says, pulling Derek in for a kiss, and the crowd around them cheers.


	4. “remember when we were in high school and we swore that if we were still single at 30 we’d marry each other, well hey guess whose birthday it is”

Stiles shows up drunk at his door on his 30th birthday. Technically, Derek supposes, it’s the day after Stiles’ birthday, given that it’s 2am.

Stiles runs his eyes hungrily up and down Derek’s body, which is clad only in loose fitting sweatpants because Derek had been asleep when he heard the commotion Stiles was making at his door.

“Happy birthday to me.” Stiles says, as he sways against the doorframe. Derek lunges to catch him before he tumbles to the floor.

“Hey Derek?” Stiles asks as Derek half guides/half drags him to the couch, “Do you remember when I was in high school? And I was an awkward pathetic virgin? And you promised if I was still pathetic and alone when I was 30 you’d marry me?”

“I do not remember that.” Derek says, “It sounds like something out of a dumb rom com you’ll deny ever watching.”

“Well,” Stiles continues as if Derek hadn’t spoken, “Guess who’s 30, pathetic, and alone!” He raises his mostly empty bottle of liquor in some imitation of a toast, and Derek takes the opportunity to take the bottle from him.

“Hey, no, wait! That’s mine!” Stiles protests, reaching for the bottle, “I need that, for reasons!”

“I think it’s time for sleep.” Derek says, taking off Stiles’ shoes and lifting his legs onto the couch, tipping Stiles over so he’s laying down.

“Ouch.” Stiles says without feeling, “Everything’s sideways.”

“Yes.” Derek agrees, “And as soon as you close your eyes, everything will be dark. And then you’ll go to sleep, and in the morning we’ll both forget this ever happened.”

“Wait, no, Derek!” Stiles says, grasping for Derek as he starts to pull away, “Why weren’t you there tonight?”

“I was. I came to the barbeque at your dad’s house.” Derek says.

“Yeah, for like a minute.” Stiles scoffs, “You spent the whole time talking to my dad and Deputy Parrish. You barely even talked to me, and then you left.”

“You were busy.” Derek says, “Now go to sleep so I can draw a dick on your face in sharpie.”

Stiles snorts. “You wouldn’t.” He says, “Scott might. Isaac definitely would. But you wouldn’t.”

“It’s only because it’s too much effort to look for one, I swear.” Derek says. Stiles giggles, his shoulders shaking as he buries his face in Derek’s couch cushions.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Derek thinks Stiles might finally have gone to sleep, when Stiles speaks again, his voice suddenly, achingly sad. “Everyone else is so happy and in love.” He says, “Everyone else found someone who loves them back. Hey Derek?” Stiles’ eyes pin Derek in place, looking at him like his eyes hold the answers to all life’s questions, “What’s it like to love somebody who loves you back?”

Derek’s throat constricts. “I wouldn’t know.” He admits softly.

“Do you think you ever could?” Stiles asks, his eyes blinking heavily, sleep finally threatening to overtake him.

“Could what?” Derek asks.

“Do you think you could ever love me back?” Stiles asks. Then he yawns hugely, and his eyes don’t open again, and his heartbeat settles out into the familiar pattern of sleep.

Derek stares at the young man sleeping on his couch, feeling shattered. Asleep, Stiles looks more like the reckless teenager Derek first met than the driven, capable adult Derek has come to know. Still, if Derek’s honest with himself, he loves both versions of Stiles, and every version that’s come in-between.

He doesn’t go back to bed. Instead, he sits on the floor beside his couch, and stares at the sleeping face of the man he loves, and for the first time in years, he allows himself to wonder if Stiles might feel the same way about him.


	5. “i planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to whole proposing thing”

They have a life together. A gorgeous house, an amazing kid, even a cat that Derek let Stiles name Batman because the black-and-white markings on its fur look eerily like a cape and cowl. Sure, they did the whole thing a little out-of-order, a little unconventionally, and yeah, their kid may not have the most mundane of origins (what can they say? apparently fairies exist, and when they grant boons they don’t so much ask what you want as read your deepest heart’s desire and give it to you whether you were aware it was your heart’s desire or not.) but the point is, they’re happy.

Derek, who’s actually pretty good with numbers and has (of all things) an accounting degree that he never mentioned the first several years they all knew each other, is quietly doing the pack’s taxes, when all of the sudden he says, “You know, we should really think about getting married. It just makes sense, financially.”

“No! You ruiner! Take that back right now!” Is not exactly the response he expected. He turns to see Stiles looking at him wide-eyed and panicked.

“I swear to god, Hale.” Stiles continues, “If you ruin the epic, romantic proposal plans that Scott and I have spent months on by casually suggesting matrimony while doing our fucking taxes I will end you.”

“I said nothing.” Derek says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You’re damn right, you said nothing.” Stiles says, holding a warning finger up to him. “It just makes sense financially.” He mimics under his breath as he wanders upstairs to check on their daughter, “Your friggin’ _face_ makes sense, financially, you goddamn proposal ruiner.”

***

Nearly a month later, on their anniversary, Derek finds himself appropriately wowed and wooed by Stiles’ incredibly well-planned romantic proposal dinner. At the end of the night, Stiles gets down on one knee, takes Derek’s hand in his, and says, “Derek Hale, you are the love of my life. Will you do me the honor of being my husband? After all, it just makes sense, financially.”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” Derek asks.

“Not even a little bit.” Stiles says.

"I can live with that.” Derek says, and leans in to kiss his fiance.


	6. “we’re getting fake engaged for [insert reason here]”

“Quick, kiss me!” The stranger says, and before Derek can react, there’s a pair of lips on his, kissing him sweetly. The stranger pulls away, then pretends to just be noticing another man walking towards them.

“Stiles.” The other man greets the stranger, an odd name. Derek wonders if it’s his first or his last. “Is this the infamous fiance I’ve heard so much about?”

Derek raises an eyebrow at the word  _fiance_ , and the stranger - Stiles - looks at him pleadingly.

“Derek Hale.” Derek introduces himself, “I’m afraid I can’t say the same about you. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

A sour look crosses the other man’s face. “Matt. Dahler. I was just looking to ask Stiles about some details on the account we’ve been spending so much time on lately.” He says it like he’s trying to imply something, trying to make Derek jealous. Beside him, Stiles shivers uncomfortably.

“It’s a party, Mark.” Derek says smoothly, and enjoys the way Matt winces at the name, “Try to relax, enjoy yourself. I’m sure the work can wait until Monday.”

He spots Boyd and Erica from across the party, and knows Erica at least will get a kick out of hearing about this little farce, so he places his hand on Stiles’ waist, and says, “Come on, I have some friends I’d like to introduce you to.”

He nods politely to Matt, but lets his smile border on a smirk as they walk away.

“Thank you so much, dude.” Stiles says, “Seriously, that dude has been creeping on me for months now, and my fake relationship’s been wearing thin. How can I repay you?”

“Let me take you out for dinner?” Derek says. Stiles looks at him, shocked. “You don’t have to, obviously.” Derek backtracks, “I just thought, you know –”

“I’d love to.” Stiles says, hurriedly.

“Good.” Says Derek, “I hope you don’t find it too presumptuous for me to say, but I’d really hate for tonight to be the last time I got to kiss you.”

“Me too.” Stiles says with a small smile.


	7. “we’re assigned to this mission in which we have to pretend to be a married couple, but i’m actually really in love with you”

“I hate you.” Derek growls.

“No you don’t.” Stiles says, “You love me. Like it’s your job. Because it actually is your fucking job. Now shut up and hold my hand while we walk down the beach at sunset.”

“This is such a cliche!” Derek complains.

“We’re newlyweds.” Stiles counters, “Newlyweds love cliches.”

“No, newlyweds love staying in the honeymoon suite and fucking like rabbits.”

“I should report you for sexual harassment, just for that.” Stiles says, “Besides, how does staying in the room and pretending we’re fucking do anything to help us catch this guy?”

“Who said anything about pretending?” Derek asks, grinning wolfishly.

“June 25th, 2015. 6.33pm. Agent Hale explicitly propositioned me for sex for reasons unrelated to maintaining cover and causing me, Agent Stilinski, to experience serious workplace discomfort.” Stiles narrates the fake sexual harassment writeup they both know he’d never actually file.

“That’s funny.” Derek says, leaning into Stiles’ space, his free hand curving around Stiles’ hip. “You didn’t seem that uncomfortable last night when I –”

Stiles pulls him in for a bruising kiss, fingers tangling in Derek’s hair so tightly it almost hurts. He breaks away and says, “Target spotted. My eleven o’clock, entering the tiki hut restaurant. How do you want to play it.”

“Why, darling. You look famished.” Derek says, “Let me take you to dinner.”


	8. “we accidentally got married in vegas oops”

“I love you so much dude!” Stiles declares loudly from where he’s lying on the edge of a fountain in the middle of the Las Vegas strip.

“And I love  _you_ so much, dude!” Scott returns enthusiastically.

“You’re getting married, bro,” Stiles says, with all the seriousness his alcohol soaked brain can muster, “to Allison. To the love of your life.”

“Yes.” Scott agrees, swaying slightly against the lamp post that’s keeping him upright.

“And next month, I’m marrying  _Derek_. Who’s the love of  _my_ life.” Stiles continues.

“Tha’s true,” Scott agrees.

“But, like -” Stiles waves his hands furiously in the air, like his point is there somewhere if he can just grab hold of it. “Like, dude, You’re the  _bro_ of my life, you know?”

“I know!” Scott says, “I know, dude. It’s like… We should get  _bro_ -married.”

“Yes!” Stiles says, sitting up quickly, arm and leg splashing in the fountain. “Woah, hold on. I’m dizzy. And my sleeve is wet. And my leg-sleeve too. But what was I saying?”

“Bro-married.” Scott says somberly.

“Yes! Bro-married. We should do it.”

***

Stiles wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. Scott’s drooling a wet patch just above his knee, and Derek’s on the other side of the bed, talking lowly on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they weren’t thinking,” Derek is saying quietly, “I dunno, Allison. They were well past three sheets last night. Yeah, I don’t know. They said it didn’t count because they were  _bro-married_ , whatever the fuck that means.”

Stiles rubs his face tiredly, and stills when he spots something new sitting on the ring finger of his left hand. He turns his hand over and looks at it more closely. It’s a wide metal band - nothing too expensive, it looks like it was probably sold at one of the tacky jewelry shops up and down the strip - engraved with the word “BRO” with a heart on either side. The hearts have rhinestones in them.

He’s still staring at the ring like it’s a puzzle to be solved, when Derek says, “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Wha happened?” Stiles asks in a croaking voice.

“You and your  _husband_ there decided to celebrate Scott’s marriage to Allison by getting what you both keep referring to as a ‘bro-married’.” Derek says.

“Yeah, that sounds like something we’d do.” Stiles admits.

“Ok, great,” Derek says, in a tone that implies that it is distinctly not great. “Well now we need to go down to the courthouse and see how quickly we can rush an annulment so that Scott can marry Allison as planned.”

“Wait, wait. We actually got married? Like, legally?” Stiles asks, horrified. Suddenly his fiance’s irritation makes a lot more sense. Scott’s getting married to Allison in less than two days, and Stiles is getting married to Derek in two months. They’re both probably so pissed. Stiles' stomach churns violently. He twists onto his side in case he needs to throw up, but fortunately all that comes out is an impressively loud belch. 

“Yes,” Derek says snappishly. “You and Scott are legally wed. And while the state of Nevada now recognizes gay marriage, _bigamy_ is still illegal in all 50 states.”

“Bro,” Stiles says, tapping Scott’s sleeping head. “Bro, we gotta go get bro-divorced now.”

“Idunwanna.” Scott mumbles into Stiles’ leg.

“We gotta,” Stiles says. “My future husband and your future wife are gonna not-so-future kill us if we don’t. Bigamy’s illegal, dude. Derek just told me.”

“They should make an exception for best bros,” Scott says, his eyes still shut as he rolls onto his back. “Brogamy.” The giggle that follows suddenly turns into a violent cough as Scott chokes on his own spit.

“Are you still drunk?” Derek asks.

“No,” Scott says, before sitting up and swaying violently. “Ok, maybe a little. I think I need to throw up.”


	9. “accidentally crashed this wedding, but hey you’re pretty cute”

Stiles was not particularly close with his great-aunt Gina. Well, that’s perhaps overstating things. It would be more accurate to say that Stiles is not entirely sure which of his geriatric, cheek-pinching Polish relatives Great-Aunt Gina actually was. But that’s no longer the point. The point is, Great-Aunt Gina is now the elderly Polish relative who has most recently died, and Stiles is expected to be at her memorial service, trying to remember which aunts, uncles, and cousins are Great-Aunt Gina’s kids and grand-kids, so that he can direct his sympathy to the right people.

He’s running late, because he’d decided not to skip his Friday afternoon class for the memorial service of a woman he barely remembers, paying his sympathies to cousins he barely talks to, and if that makes him a terrible person, then so be it.

Apparently, Great-Aunt Gina’s side of the family has some damn money, though, because her memorial service is at some swanky country club instead of crammed into someone’s over-crowded kitchen.

There’s even a freaking Valet, who takes his keys in exchange for a ticket stub, and boredly directs him to some hall or another when he asks where the Kowalski party is.

Ten minutes later, he’s hopelessly lost. Then he hears the sound of a crowd coming from down the hall, and he follows it, hoping it’s Great-Aunt Gina’s memorial service. He enters a room, and it looks like he might be in the right place. Everyone’s dressed up, and it’s definitely a party of some kind. He doesn’t recognize anyone, but he doesn’t really know this side of the family that well. A waiter offers him a crab cake, and he crams three into his mouth before going to search for his dad.

He wanders around a bit more, not spotting any familiar faces, when he straight-on collides into someone. He steps back to apologize, and comes face to face with a drop-dead gorgeous guy with dark hair, and stubble, and the most amazing hazel green eyes.

“God, I really hope you’re not my cousin.” Stiles says instead of sorry, because he apparently has lost the last remnants of his brain-to-mouth filter.

The guy laughs. “That’s easy enough to figure out.” He says, “I’m Derek, the bride’s brother.”

“And I’m at the wrong party, apparently.” Stiles says, “Because I’m Stiles, the deceased’s great-nephew.”

“So not cousins, then.” Derek says, “In that case, I may need to get your number.”


	10. “i was deliberately not invited to this wedding so i'm crashing it anyways, even if that means the angry hot maid of honor is going to murder me”

Stiles could not tell you what possessed him to crash his ex’s wedding. He wasn’t still hung up on her, and actually thought her wife-to-be was a great match for her. Hell, he’d been the one to break up with Malia in the first place.

Maybe that was it. Maybe, some small part of him wanted to see with his own eyes that Malia was happy, and that he hadn’t ruined her life by being an asshole.

Or, also a distinct possibility, it was because he didn’t want to miss the chance to see her hot cousin, who may or may not have factored into him breaking up with her in the first place, again.

But, like, could you blame him? Malia was great and everything, but any time her older, protective cousin Derek was around, he was all Stiles could think about.

So Stiles had broken up with Malia, had been mostly honest about why, “No, it’s not you. Yes, there’s someone else. No, nothing’s happened with him, he doesn’t even like me, but it’s not fair to you.” He had left out the bit about the dude he was obsessed with being her cousin, but that was to spare her feelings more than anything.

Of course, Derek had come around and threatened him after they broke up, and Stiles had basically thrown himself at him. And of course, Derek had angrily rebuffed him, telling Stiles he would never do something to hurt Malia.

But Malia’s moved on, and is happier now than she ever was with Stiles. She’s absolutely glowing as she and Heather exchange vows.

Derek catches sight of him partway through the ceremony, and glares at him murderously. Stiles points two fingers at his own eyes, then back toward the altar, just to see the angry tick in Derek’s jaw.

“What are you doing here?” Derek growls, cornering Stiles the moment the ceremony’s through. “You weren’t invited.”

“I came to see if a certain grumpy man-of-honor might save me a dance,” Stiles says. “I know Malia got over me, but I never quite managed to get over you.”


	11. “you’re the hot stripper at my friend’s bachelor(ette) party”

 “Ow OW! Is it getting hot in here, or is it just this sexy fireman?” Erica calls. The sexy fireman in question is putting on a hell of a show, belly-rolling his well-defined abs as Erica attempts to lick salt off them before taking her shot of tequila.

The night ends with Erica being poured into bed, her bridesmaids puppy-piling around her, and Stiles walking his roommate’s stripper out the door.

“Seriously.” Stiles says, “I can’t thank you enough, Derek. I know you don’t do this kind of thing anymore.”

“It’s fine, Stiles.” Derek says softly, “One private party’s not gonna break me. Honestly, my professional reputation is more at risk from a random client recognizing me as the angry go-go dancer from Splash Bar –”

“Hey!” Stiles protests, “The hot angry go-go dancer from Splash Bar.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You get my point. You asked me for a favor, I granted it. Simple as that.”

“Oh, so now I owe you one, is that what you’re saying?”

“Bingo.” Derek says. “I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Oh, wait! Before I forget!” Stiles says, and he presses a wad of cash into Derek’s palm.

“Stiles, this really isn’t ne–” Derek starts

“It’s not from me, it’s from the girls. Your tip for tonight.” Stiles says. “You earned it. Erica had a great bachelorette thanks to you.”

Derek pauses, then relents. “Alright. Tell them I said thank you.”

The window to Erica’s bedroom opens above them and Erica leans out. “Ooh la la!” She calls, “What have we here, a sexy rendezvous?”

“Go to sleep, Erica!” Stiles calls up to her, “Derek’s leaving now.”

“Derek and Stiles, sittin’ in a tree!” Erica giggles delightedly, “Go on, Stiles! Tell him how sexy you think IT is. Rawr.”

“Ignore her. She’s drunk.” Stiles says.

“Hey Derek! Did you know Stiles has a crush on you?” Erica yells down, “A great big C-R-U–” Then she yelps as she’s bodily hauled back inside and the window shuts behind her.

Stiles covers his face with both his hands. “Oh my god.” He groans, “I am so, so, so sorry about that.”

“Is that true?” Derek asks.

“I think it’s really unfair of you to use any information you gain from my catcalling drunk roommate against me.” Stiles says, instead of answering.

“Will you have dinner with me?” Derek asks in a rush, suddenly seeming much more the easily embarrassed IT nerd Stiles knows from work than the confidant stripper he’d seen earlier tonight.

“Yes.” Stiles says immediately, “When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Oh, um. I kind of have plans. What with –” He waves his hand toward Erica’s window.

“Oh right, the wedding.” Derek says. “Sunday?”

“Sunday.” Stiles agrees. “It’s a date.”

“Ok, then.” Derek says, smiling. Then he leans in haltingly, and presses a quick kiss to Stiles’ cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday.” He says, and walks away with a quick wave over his shoulder.


	12. “hey i’m the best man, you’re a bridesmaid, let’s do this thing?”

Scott and Kira have a beautiful wedding. It’s outdoors, and everything’s illuminated by a canopy of dancing fairy lights that Kira conjured with her kitsune powers.

Stiles sits down on the back porch of the restored Hale house and watches them dance. Derek joins him moments later, handing him a cold beer.

“They look happy.” Stiles says.

“They are.” Derek says. They sit quietly for a while, watching while other couples join the newlyweds on the dance floor.

“It’s amazing that we made it here.” Stiles says quietly. “After all the – after everything. We’re still here. My best friend got married today, and I got to watch him do it. After all the times we’ve nearly died, he’s still here. He’s here, and he’s happy, and I’m here to watch him be.”

Derek doesn’t respond right away. He considers Stiles carefully for a long moment, before finally opening his mouth and asking, “And are you happy?”

Stiles laughs. “I feel a lot closer today than I have in a long time.” Then he sighs, and says, “I’m working on it, sourwolf. Day by day, just like you.”

Then he stands up, sets down his beer, and offers his hand to Derek. “C’mon, dance with me.” He says.

Derek offers him a withering look.

“It has to happen, man.” Stiles laughs, “I’m the Best Man, you’re the Maid of Honor. We would shame this wedding if we didn’t share a dance.”

“I’m not the Maid of Honor.” Derek grouses.

“I don’t care what Kira let you call yourself today.” Stiles says, “You stood up next to the bride, that makes you the Maid of Honor. Accept it and dance with me.”

Derek takes a long, slow sip of his beer, pretending to ignore Stiles.

“It might just make me happy.” Stiles teases.

“You’re playing dirty.” Derek says, but accepts Stiles’ hand anyway.

“The only way I know how.” Stiles replies with a grin.

They dance the rest of the night. With each other, with Scott and Kira, with family and friends and loved ones, everyone they care about, taking joy in sharing one another’s happiness.


	13. “i’m a wedding planner and you don’t believe in marriage”

Speed dating was not Stiles’ idea. He wants to be clear about that. He’s only here because he has a bad habit of making friends with the couples he plans weddings for (which has made outsourcing his billing a business necessity), and the couple whose wedding he just finished had met speed dating, and when they found out he was single they insisted he try it.

Scott and Kira were both bubbly, outgoing, and (most importantly for a ridiculous idea like speed dating to actually work) optimistic, so Stiles wasn’t really surprise to learn that they had clicked instantly and gone from there.

Stiles was not an optimist. He liked to consider himself a realist, but when it came to his own love life, he was perfectly willing to admit that he’d fallen well into pessimism.

Still, here he is, changing tables at the ding of a bell, spending five minutes trying to see if the person he’s speaking with has anything in common with him. It’s frankly exhausting.

The man sitting across from him now would be spectacularly handsome if it weren’t for the sour glare on his face. Truth be told, he’s still incredibly sexy, glare and all, but Stiles went through his moody bad-boy phase years ago, and isn’t eager to return.

“So what do you do?” Stiles asks. Always a safe bet.

“I’m a divorce attorney.” The man, Derek, according to his nametag, says.

“No kidding? I’m a wedding planner.” Stiles says, “We should trade cards. I bet we could refer each other a lot of business.”

Derek’s scowl deepens. “How do you figure.” He says. Not asks, says.

“Weddings, which I plan, lead to divorces.” Stiles says, “And divorces lead to new weddings to vapid trophy wives with expensive taste. It’s like a match made in heaven.”

Derek’s scowl softens, and Stiles maybe even sees the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Cynicism from the mouth of a wedding planner.” He says, softly amused, “I look forward to doing business with you, Mister…”

“Stilinski.” Stiles says, “But everyone calls me Stiles.”


End file.
